


Mending the Cracks

by shinysylver



Series: Managing the Impossible [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Family, Family Dinners, M/M, Medication, Mental Health Issues, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysylver/pseuds/shinysylver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian didn't want to think of himself as broken, but sometimes he did. It didn't help that his siblings treated him like a ticking time bomb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mending the Cracks

**Author's Note:**

> I did some research on Bipolar Disorder and its treatments for this fic, but please forgive me if there are any errors.
> 
> This fic deals with mental health issues and there is also language in this fic that fits the Shameless canon, but could be offensive to you because the characters are not very PC. Please read safely.

Ian stared at himself in the broken mirror as he brushed his teeth. The cracks broke up his reflection in ways that felt sort of appropriate. He didn't want to think of himself as broken, but sometimes he did. It was hard not to when he had to take a handful of pills every day just to feel close to "normal," whatever that meant. Mostly it seemed to mean that he felt a little bit numb all the time. He had trouble believing that that was what "normal" felt like because he didn't remember ever feeling that way before his disorder.

Not that he was going to stop taking the pills because numb was infinitely preferable to the alternative. It had taken him a while to accept, but he'd rather deal with the drugs and doctor's appointments than let everyone, including himself down. 

A few months ago, during his first depressive episode, he'd heard Fiona tell Mickey that things were impossible. He'd been too low to really react or deal with it then, but now that he was leveled out and in control again he'd made it his goal in life to prove her wrong. Ian had always believed in the impossible, he'd never been happy just accepting the shitty life they were dealt like the rest of his siblings. 

Ian still hadn't forgiven himself for burning bridges with the military. He understood that the onset of his disorder had come at the exact wrong time and that he shouldn't blame himself too much, but he couldn't help it. For so long he'd spent his entire life with the military as his goal. It gave him a reason to get up in the morning, it motivated him to work out, and to keep up in school. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do with his life now that the military was out, but he was glad for the discipline he'd learned. He needed every bit of it to make sure he stayed on top of his disorder. 

"What's taking so long?" Mickey asked, ducking his head in the door. "Why the hell do you need to brush your teeth before you eat?"

"Trying to get rid of this damn taste," Ian mumbled around the brush. One of his medications made his mouth taste funny and even if he knew it was futile he felt better after he brushed his teeth. 

"Whatever, but if Fiona gets pissed that we're late, you'd better take the fucking blame."

Ian spat out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth out with a handful of water. "What? Are you scared of my sister?"

"Fuck off," Mickey said, but there was no heat to his words as he leaned against the doorframe and watched Ian run his fingers through his hair, trying to arrange it. "I don't like the way she looks at me like I'm trash."

Ian sighed. Fiona had never been fond of the Milkovich family which had frustrated Ian when she'd been rude to Mandy and now it was Mickey that got her snide comments. "Yeah, well, she looks at me like I'm going to break down and try to off myself every time I get up to take a fucking piss."

Mickey grunted, but kept his opinion to himself, which Ian was grateful for. The last time they'd had a conversation about Fiona, Mickey had called her a "stupid fucking bitch" among other things and Ian had gotten pissed. They'd nearly gotten into a physical fight about it and now Mickey knew where the lines were. Frank and Monica were fair game, but Ian's siblings were different. Even when Ian was pissed at them, he didn't like to hear other people—even Mickey—talking shit about his brothers and sisters. 

Ian ducked his head to get a better look at his hair in the broken mirror. He gestured at the mirror, hoping to change the topic of conversation. "How did that get broken anyway? It looks like it was punched."

Mickey dropped his eyes and his neck flushed red. "I dunno. I must have been drunk or something."

Ian turned around and raised an eyebrow at Mickey. "That is such a lie."

"We going to have a heart to fucking heart, or are we going to get to your house before dinner is over?" Mickey straightened up and met Ian's eyes with a challenging look. 

"I'll just ask you again when you're drunk," Ian said, skirting around Mickey and grabbing his wallet off of the nightstand.

"You do that," Mickey said, following Ian out of the door. 

The walk to the Gallagher house was a silent one. Now that they were both well and truly out of the closet, Mickey was on edge in public. He always kept on high alert, ready for trouble. Ian couldn't really blame him, considering the neighborhood and his family, but it had been months and no one other than Terry seemed to care enough to do more than yell the occasional slur. For once, though, Ian had decided to leave well enough alone. He'd pushed Mickey far enough already and so he just dealt with the paranoia. 

When they turned the corner to the Gallagher house he saw Debbie and Liam on the porch waiting for them. 

"Ian!" Liam shouted, squirming out of Debbie's arms and running toward them. 

Ian swung Liam up on his hip and kissed his forehead. "I missed you."

"'Key!" Liam reached out toward Mickey.

Ian had to smother a laugh at the surprised look on Mickey's face. Liam was a friendly kid and Mickey had been around enough by now for Liam to know him. Mickey still barely acknowledged Yevgeny, so Ian was surprised when he reached out and ruffled Liam's hair, making the toddler laugh. 

Ian grinned at Mickey until his boyfriend glared at him and asked, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Ian said. He reached out and gave Debbie a half hug. "Hey, Debs."

"How are you doing?" Debbie asked, looking up at him with wide concerned eyes. 

Ian swallowed his sigh. This was why he spent most of his time at Mickey's and not at home anymore. Mickey was the one of the only people who treated him like he was just Ian and not a ticking time bomb. "I'm fine."

Debbie's eyes lingered on him and he wondered what she was looking for, but then she finally nodded and took Liam from him. "Dinner's already on the table." 

"I told you we'd be late," Mickey muttered. 

Ian rolled his eyes and pushed Mickey towards the door. 

The noisy chatter common to a Gallagher meal died down as soon as they entered. Debbie had already taken a seat next to Liam's highchair, leaving Mickey and Ian with the last two seats, which happened to be on opposite ends of the table. Ian wondered if that was on purpose.

"What are we having?" Ian asked, taking the seat between Fiona and Debbie. He figured that Mickey would get into less trouble sitting next to Lip and Carl. 

"Lip got us steak," Fiona answered.

Ian looked at the high quality cut of beef that Fiona was putting onto his plate. "How'd he get it?"

"Stole it," Lip interjected proudly. "This girl I know from college had some ritzy party at her parent's house. The freezer was full of the good stuff."

"So you just walked out of the party with your pockets stuffed full of meat?" Mickey asked around a mouthful of beef. 

"Pretty much."

Ian laughed and took a bite of his own steak. It was good, a lot better than the cheap crap he and Mickey lived off of. Neither of them could cook worth shit so it was mostly fast food or frozen pizzas and sandwiches. Sometimes if they were lucky, Mandy would bring home dinner from the diner she worked at. 

"How are you, Ian?" Fiona asked, scrutinizing him as he ate. "You look good."

"I'm fine." You'd have thought that she hadn't seen him in forever, but it had just been a week. He really was going to scream if this kept up for too much longer. He kept telling himself that all he had to do was prove that he could take care of himself and they'd eventually start believing him, but he wished they would hurry up and trust him already. 

Fiona kept staring at him as if she was waiting for more, so he leaned back in his chair. "I talked to the doctor about changing my anti-depressant."

"But you just went on that one earlier this month," Fiona protested. "Is it not working?"

Ian shrugged. "I'm not depressed and it doesn't seem to cause a problem with my mood stabilizers."

"Then why change it?" Lip asked. 

Ian felt his cheeks heat up and glanced at Mickey only to find that the bastard was smirking at him. Fine, if that's the way Mickey wanted to play it. This would embarrass Mickey more than him. "Cause being stuck with a limp dick sucks when I'd really like to fuck my boyfriend."

The smirk fell off Mickey's face as all eyes turned towards him. He glared at them all. "What? It's not like you all didn't know we fuck."

"Enough," Fiona said. "Not in front of the kids."

"You're the one that has to know every detail of my life," Ian muttered. He took another bite of his steak and ignored the way Fiona was staring at him. Thankfully Carl asked Mickey a question about guns which took all of the attention off of him for a while.

Ian managed to eat half of the steak and part of the mashed potatoes before he had to stop. His appetite was screwed up because of the meds and the beer he was drinking was making his stomach upset. He could usually handle one or two beers, but apparently not tonight. 

"You're not going to finish that?" Lip asked, pointing at Ian's half eaten steak. 

Ian pushed his plate away. "Have at it."

Lip reached his fork out toward Ian's plate, only to be beaten by Mickey who speared the steak and put it on his own plate. "Too slow, college boy."

"Fuck you." Lip glared at Mickey. "I was going to eat that."

"Well, now I am," Mickey answered. He picked up the steak with his fingers and licked the entire thing. 

"Gross!" Debbie yelled at the same time that Carl said "cool" and decided to do the same thing with the remains of his steak. 

"Fucking animal," Fiona muttered under her breath, but Ian heard it.

"What was that?" Ian asked, his voice icy.

Fiona frowned at him. "Your 'boyfriend' eats like an animal."

The way she said the word "boyfriend" made Ian think of the way she used to refer to Mandy as Lip's girlfriend—like it was an insult. But Ian wasn't like Lip. What he and Mickey had wasn't just casual and wasn't just about sex. The last several months should have proven that to everyone and yet it was like they were all just waiting until he finally ditched Mickey and moved home. Sometimes it seemed like Fiona even thought his relationship with Mickey was a symptom of his disorder sort of like the way that Frank and Monica were drawn to each other when they were at their worst. 

No one seemed to understand that Mickey and Ian didn't bring out the worst in each other, but the best. 

"Speaking of boyfriends," Ian said, his voice deceptively sweet. "Where is Steve—Jimmy—Jack—or whatever he's calling himself now?"

Fiona jerked like he'd slapped her and Lip shook his head at Ian. "Low blow."

"Debbie, Carl, why don't you take Liam outside to play before it gets dark?" Fiona suggested.

The younger kids took Liam and left, muttering about how they always got sent away just when things were getting good. 

Ian sighed. He wasn't sure if it was the disorder, his meds, the fact that he was eighteen years old, or just his shitty life in general, but he was more easily irritated now than he used to be. He used to be the one who tried to mediate the fights not the one that started them. "I'm sorry, Fiona. But just once can you respect my relationship?" 

"I didn't say anything that I haven't said about Carl a million times."

"It was the way you said it."

Mickey looked between Ian and Fiona and pushed his chair back. "I'm going to go take a leak."

Mickey took his plate with him upstairs, which wasn't subtle at all, but Ian was just glad that Mickey was learning how to pick his fights these days. He'd also stopped looking like a deer in headlights when Ian referred to their relationship which was nice.

They all watched Mickey leave the room. Once he was gone Fiona turned her attention back to Ian. "What am I supposed to think? You never tell me anything about your relationships. Then one day the two of you are living together with his wife and kid. You can't tell me you've made the best decisions this last year."

"And you did?" Ian shot back before he could stop himself. He held up a hand before Fiona could respond. "Sorry, again, I really don't want to fight. But, this thing with Mickey has been going on for three years. It's not going away."

"I don't think you can claim three years. Unless fucking in the freezer at the Kash and Grab constitutes a relationship," Lip said, completely unhelpfully.

"Maybe not," Ian agreed. "But coming out to his father and his wife in order to be with me does. Sticking around through all this bipolar shit does." He looked at Fiona. "Hell, you even worked with him to figure out that insurance thing."

"He's trying," Fiona said, grudgingly. "But what about your future? You used to have dreams, Ian."

"Stupid dreams that would have gotten you killed in some desert, but still dreams," Lip contributed, earning himself a glare from Ian. 

"Now what? Are you just going to settle for this life? He's a fucking pimp," Fiona finished.

"I don't fucking understand you." Ian shook his head. "One minute you treat me like I'm broken and lucky to be functioning at all and the next you're talking about my future as if Mickey is somehow holding me back. You know I heard you that day, right? When you told Mickey that I should just be committed because managing this disorder would be too fucking impossible. Being depressed didn't make me deaf."

"Ian," Fiona said softly. "That wasn't what I meant. I was just trying to make Mickey realize how serious things were."

"Trust me," Mickey said from the staircase. "I understand now."

Mickey dumped his empty plate in the sink, before walking around the room and placing a hand on Ian's shoulder. "I'm heading over to the Alibi to talk to Kev. You coming with?"

Ian looked at his brother and sister and knew that as much as he wanted to just bail on this conversation he couldn't. "I think I'll stay here tonight."

"You have your pills?" Mickey asked.

"Shit." Ian shook his head. "I didn't think to bring them."

"I'll drop them by later."

"Thank you," Ian said, smiling up at Mickey.

"Yeah, whatever," Mickey muttered as he headed for the door. "Don't get your panties in a twist about it."

"Grab my toothbrush too?" Ian called after Mickey.

Mickey flipped him off over his shoulder, but Ian knew he'd bring it back with him. 

"You're right," Lip said. "He's a real sweetheart."

Ian flipped his brother off. "What are you even doing here? Don't you have a Sorority to panty raid or something?"

"Stop it," Fiona said to both of them, before looking at Ian. "So what's your plan now?"

Ian shrugged. "I've mostly been focused on getting my meds balanced and making enough money to pay for everything."

"At the club?" Lip asked.

"No," Ian answered. "I quit there after my last manic episode. It's not healthy for me to be there."

"How long ago was your last episode?" Lip asked. 

Ian stood up and started clearing the table while they talked so he didn't have to look at them. "Almost two months. Once my mood leveled out I got my old job back at the Kash and Grab."

Lip looked surprised. "Shit, where have I been?" 

"Good question," Ian muttered under his breath before raising his voice to respond. "I get it; college takes up a lot of time."

"You should go back to school. Get your diploma," Fiona said. 

"Actually," Ian said getting out a jug of juice and pouring a glass. "I was thinking about getting my GED this summer and looking into classes at the community college."

"Trust me, a real diploma gets you farther than a GED," Fiona said.

"Maybe, but the idea of going back to high school at this point…." Ian trailed off with a shrug.

"At least think about it," Fiona said. "I'm sure we can get your absence excused on medical grounds and they'll let you back in."

At that point the kids came back in talking loudly and they dropped the conversation and gathered in the living room to watch a show about deep sea fishing. It felt almost like old times sitting all together watching TV and Ian was relieved that the attention was finally off of him. He'd never really been that comfortable being the center of attention the way that his siblings were. He wasn't kidding himself that the conversation was over though—just paused.

"When are you going back to the dorm?" Ian asked Lip.

"Figured I'd stay here tonight, too."

"You just want me to do your laundry," Fiona accused.

"It's definitely an incentive." Lip lit up a cigarette and took a drag, passing it to Ian who took it gratefully. His meds interfered with alcohol and took drugs off the table, but nicotine was still his to enjoy. 

Apparently the show was having a marathon and they were several episodes in when there was a loud, aggressive knock at the door and Ian couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face as he got up to answer it. Mickey was holding out a Ziploc bag filled with his prescription bottles and his toothbrush when Ian opened the door. He was swaying slightly. 

"Are you drunk?" Ian asked, taking the bag. 

Mickey held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "A little. Kev tried to make me forget how much he owed me." 

"More like paid you in booze," Ian said. "Please tell me you got the money too?"

Mickey pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and held it up in front of Ian's face. 

"Good." Ian looked through the bag to make sure that Mickey hadn't forgotten anything since he was drunk. He hadn't. 

"You might as well let him in," Fiona said and Ian realized that no one was watching the TV anymore. 

Ian opened the door wider and grabbed Mickey's arm, pulling him in. "I can't believe you got drunk. I didn't even know you _could_ get drunk."

Mickey followed him over to the couch and sat half on top of him, something Ian knew that he wouldn't do in front of witnesses while sober. "Tolerance has gone to shit living with you."

Lip raised an eyebrow. "He stopped drinking?"

"Cut back," Ian answered. He slipped his arm around Mickey's waist trying to find a more comfortable position on the overcrowded couch. "It's easier for me if he doesn't, since I can't."

Fiona looked surprised, but didn't say anything.

"You fucking ruined me," Mickey mumbled. "Made me soft."

"Like hell you are." Ian shook his head. He did his best to ignore the way Mickey was practically nuzzling his neck. For the first time he was glad that he couldn't get it up. This was the last place he needed a boner. 

Thankfully his brothers and sisters seemed to tire of the show Mickey was inadvertently putting on and turned their attention back to the fishermen's deep sea dramas instead. It wasn't until later, after Debbie had taken Liam to bed and Carl had disappeared as well that Ian remembered their earlier conversation. He poked Mickey who was dozing against his shoulder. "How did you break the mirror?"

"Fuck off," Mickey replied. 

"You said to ask you when you were drunk."

"Not drunk enough." Mickey opened his eyes, realized that the rest of the couch was free, and moved so that he was lying down with his head in Ian's lap. He promptly fell asleep.

Ian smiled down at Mickey and gently ran his fingers through his hair. There was no way that Mickey was still drunk enough to excuse the cuddling so it meant a lot that he wasn't afraid to be like this around Ian's family. They were never going to be the kind of couple that was soft and sweet, especially in public, but this was more than enough for Ian. It was miles from where they'd started.

"So this really is serious then?" Fiona asked her eyes on Ian's hand as he played with Mickey's hair.

"Yeah, it is," Ian said. He didn't know how Fiona could have not figured that out already, he'd fucking told her it was, but maybe she was finally starting to get it. Maybe she just had to see it with her own eyes. Still, he'd have thought that Mickey sticking with him through all the clinic appointments would have been enough. 

"Okay then," Fiona said. "I'll try to be nicer and we'll talk more about school in the morning?"

Ian nodded and looked over at Lip once Fiona had headed to bed. "Well?"

"It's your life." Lip shrugged. "But at least he's not old enough to be your father."

Ian flipped him off which only made Lip laugh. 

"I'll never understand your taste in men," Lip said. "But then again all my relationships are fucked up, so what do I know?"

"You still seeing that Amanda girl?" Ian asked.

"Hell, no," Lip said. "I did manage to get another five grand out of her father first, though."

Ian shook his head. " _That_ is fucked up."

Lip lit up a cigarette. "Our lives are fucked up." He gestured at Mickey. "I mean who would've guessed you'd end up with him. That first time you told me you'd fucked him I almost shit myself. I mean there you were all young and freckly talking about banging Mickey Milkovich."

"Young and freckly?" Ian repeated indignantly.

"He's right," Mickey said, rolling over. He sat up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "You looked like a fucking alien all pale and with the freckles. Still do, just less freckles."

"Fuck off," Ian said shoving Mickey's shoulder. 

"I was trying to fucking sleep, but you two idiots won't shut up about my sex life. And as far as I can tell it's only one of your business."

"That's my cue to get out of here," Lip said, leaving Mickey and Ian alone. 

"Go brush your teeth, since I brought your damn toothbrush," Mickey said standing up. "I'll be upstairs."

Ian grabbed the bag Mickey brought—he wasn't going to leave his drugs just laying around with the possibility of Frank stopping by—and went to get ready for bed. This time as he brushed his teeth he watched himself in the smooth, unbroken mirror, and decided that he felt a little less broken than he had when he had gotten up that morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Tumblr at [shinysylver](http://shinysylver.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
